The Night School [GxG] [First Draft Edition]

Chapter Seventy-One: Blue

Next I pulled out a small rectangular-prismatic object skillfully wrapped in more blue wrapping paper, topped with a glittery ice-blue star-like ribbon, and with a single string of the lace ribbon around its girth. She must have done a lot to put it together... I removed the ribbon with the utmost delicacy, setting the pretty thing down on the tissue paper sheet, the cat still nestled in the crook of my arm.

Unwrapping the object, I discovered it was a small book. And on the cover, it read: "Just Your Average Joe-ke Book". A small white note was tucked behind the cover. I pulled it out and read what was on it.

You have a wonderful happy face, Hazel. USE IT. Laugh a little. ;) -Grace

I found a small smile on my face after reading her cute little card. It made warmth fill my body, along with the dull, or stabbing, pain returning in my chest.

I put the joke book down and grabbed the next gift. Another book shaped rectangular prism. The same kind of wrapping and ribbon was on it, so I removed the decorations with the same care as I'd given to the former.

And, surprise, another book. I could feel the pages shift against my fingers, but the cover was blocked by another note.

I know how you say you hate books, but I want you to read this. Maybe you'll like it. If you don't... Enjoy the commentary I wrote in. It was my personal copy, after all. -Grace <3

I put the note to the side, still smiling a little when I saw the cover of the book. Catcher in the Rye. Megan loved this book. So, naturally, I had never gone near it. Avoided it, and bringing it up to her, like an infectious disease, actually... But I felt obliged to read Grace's copy. More, I wanted to. And I didn't bother trying to figure out why. Nor did I particularly care.

I felt in the bag again and pulled out a bar shaped thing that had been tainted with the repugnant odor of sharpie. I covered my nose and mouth with the cat plushy to smother the scent out of my breaths once I started getting nausea and lightheadedness from the fumes invading my senses. Which was about a half second of breathing in the rank smell. I regarded the small object. The sharpie fumes were emanating from the black blotch drawn over what I assumed was the price marker of the item. On the other side, I saw a huge company/product title I didn't know, but at the bottom I did recognize something. The words 'fine cocoa products'. I eyed at the ingredients suspiciously. Cocoa, milk, whatever... And no chitin (or any of the bothersome other ways of expressing the chemical's presence).

She'd gotten me chocolate.

I smiled internally, a warm something blossomed and grew in my chest, reaching out and expanding through me pleasantly. And then a similar sensation, more or less, like my insides had become a still lake a rock had been tossed in to disturb the spreading heat with ripples and distortions of icy cold.

The mixed reactions through me almost persuaded me to leave the last piece of the gift untouched, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't pursue what I wanted despite my own problems with it. I stuffed the bar of chocolate back into the bag, putting the whole thing under my bed after withdrawing the last present. A pale blue envelope with silver pen spelling 'to Hazel' on the front flap.

Inside was a white card with a simple but elegant design of realistic pastel colored flowers down one side. I opened it up and noted that there's been nothing manufactured on the interior- all of the writing was Grace's.

Happy 14th birthday! Hope you like your presents... The chocolate has no chitin, so please eat it and don't think I'm trying to give you an allergic reaction (I'm not). Uh... I hope you have a great year, I hope I get to be a part of it... God, that's cheesy... Uh... This is pen so I can't erase anything... I guess I'll have to tell you in person whatever else I should put in here because I have no clue what else to write.

Love, Grace (ugh, sorry, I'm impulsive and it's still pen... Pretend I said sincerely or something)

I laughed quietly. I would like to have had her with me... I did like most of the strange things things she did to my body... But not what she'd been doing to me since she confessed.

Running my finger over the silvery pen scratchings, I felt the words she'd written for me. It was a somewhat strange pleasure of mine, feeling the small indentations on a page once I'd had been written on. The concise lines and curves that had been given meaning only when seen. Touch was a different language altogether.

My nose began tingling weirdly, and I felt something moving on my face, leaving a cold trail. No. Why was I- was I-- I cautiously touched the head of the cold trail, liquid immediately crawling onto my fingers. I was. Now I couldn't help but wonder why.

I blinked and suddenly a new trail formed on my other cheek, the soft tap of a droplet of water on skin almost seemed to echo like a taunt in my ears. What was going on with me? All those questions I don't usually care for (the whys, mostly) just bubbled to the surface with the tears. Why was there a huge unswallowable lump in my throat? Why was there a heavy weight crushing my chest? Why was this happening to me now? Why did I feel like I was going to explode?

I coughed a little, a strangled, breathless, painful croak. And then again like I had no control, this time it was more like a cry; an exclamation that there was something very wrong with me. I wasn't in pain. I wasn't angry. I was definitely overwhelmed by all the things in me, but it didn't sit right with me to label this outburst as solely caused by my being overwhelmed. There was no equation nor variable for this problem, so I suppose it was partially due to my feeling helpless and confused- but there was something else. Something I knew I wanted Megan to help me get rid of. An instinct told me it was probably one of those stupid feelings she's always on about. That everyone seems to be on about. And, like the others I knew of, I did not want it.

By now I was practically hysterical with tears. I didn't know how to stop it, I just knew I felt like I needed to explode and release a solid substance from my body- lift the awful mass from my chest. And somehow, the tears helped. A physical reaction meant to summon help on both an internal and external degree. Relieve the weight and show Megan that I needed her urgently.

"Megan?!" I had a strangled quality to my voice like I had gravel in my throat. I curled up on my bed, just consumed by the need to free myself of the pressure inside me.

I felt a familiar form lay down next to me, calmly stroking my hair. I'd grown so used to her that I didn't question anything about what she'd done or what she was doing when she paused and probably moved all the stuff from the gift onto the floor (judging by the sound of the papers timed with her movements). All but the cat that I was clinging to like it would somehow help.

"Come here, Zel." Megan whispered softly, as if I were a panic stricken animal (which, in actuality, I held a distinct affinity to). She ran a light touch down from the top of my neck to the small of my back, staying directly on my spine. I instinctively uncurled and started trying to reset my breathing by taking deep gulps and holding my breath.

"Stop that. If you need to cry, cry. It's okay." She soothed. "You're sad, Hazel. And when you're sad, you cry." I nodded weakly and let go of my breath, embracing the uneven hiccup-like style of respiration.

**maybe it's just me, but from a non-linear, non-subjective view point, Hazel is being cute af right now. lol that's a dollar in the badly placed show reference jar for me. But really. She's so cute.